One Perfect Rose

Related poetry:

1. MY PERFECT ROSE At ten she came to me, three years ago, There was ‘something between us’ even then; Watching her write like Eliot every day, Turn prose into haiku in ten minutes flat, Write a poem in Greek three weeks from learning the alphabet; Then translate it as ‘Sun on a tomb, gold place, small sacred horse’. […]...
2. The Rose and the Cross Out of the seething cauldron of my woes, Where sweets and salt and bitterness I flung; Where charmed music gathered from my tongue, And where I chained strange archipelagoes Of fallen stars; where fiery passion flows A curious bitumen; where among The glowing medley moved the tune unsung Of perfect love: thence grew the Mystic […]...
3. Sea Rose Rose, harsh rose, Marred and with stint of petals, Meagre flower, thin, Sparse of leaf, More precious Than a wet rose Single on a stem You are caught in the drift. Stunted, with small leaf, You are flung on the sand, You are lifted In the crisp sand That drives in the wind. Can the […]...
4. Forget! The lady with the Amulet Forget! The lady with the Amulet Forget she wore it at her Heart Because she breathed against Was Treason twixt? Deny! Did Rose her Bee For Privilege of Play Or Wile of Butterfly Or Opportunity Her Lord away? The lady with the Amulet will face The Bee in Mausoleum laid Discard his Bride But longer […]...
5. A Little Budding Rose It was a little budding rose, Round like a fairy globe, And shyly did its leaves unclose Hid in their mossy robe, But sweet was the slight and spicy smell It breathed from its heart invisible. The rose is blasted, withered, blighted, Its root has felt a worm, And like a heart beloved and slighted, […]...
6. Stanzas to the Rose SWEET PICTURE of Life’s chequer’d hour! Ah, wherefore droop thy blushing head? Tell me, oh tell me, hap’less flow’r, Is it because thy charms are fled? Come, gentle ROSE, and learn from me A lesson of Philosophy. Thy scented buds, LIFE’S joys disclose; They strew our paths with magic sweets; Where many a thorn like […]...
7. He Tells Of The Perfect Beauty O cloud-pale eyelids, dream-dimmed eyes, The poets labouring all their days To build a perfect beauty in rhyme Are overthrown by a woman’s gaze And by the unlabouring brood of the skies: And therefore my heart will bow, when dew Is dropping sleep, until God burn time, Before the unlabouring stars and you....
8. The Rose Family The rose is a rose, And was always a rose. But the theory now goes That the apple’s a rose, And the pear is, and so’s The plum, I suppose. The dear only know What will next prove a rose. You, of course, are a rose But were always a rose....
9. The perfect cup We were born of tea, our mum could drink fourteen Cups a day, an awesome feat to try to rationalise, Beyond belief unless you knew where we had one She would have two. The perfect cup, she said, Was never one; I understood in sum that meant A pot of tea for two, a cuppa […]...
10. The Wedding of the Rose and the Lotos The wide Pacific waters And the Atlantic meet. With cries of joy they mingle, In tides of love they greet. Above the drowned ages A wind of wooing blows: – The red rose woos the lotos, The lotos woos the rose. . . The lotos conquered Egypt. The rose was loved in Rome. Great India […]...
11. Let me not mar that perfect Dream Let me not mar that perfect Dream By an Auroral stain But so adjust my daily Night That it will come again. Not when we know, the Power accosts The Garment of Surprise Was all our timid Mother wore At Home in Paradise....
12. O Gather Me the Rose O gather me the rose, the rose, While yet in flower we find it, For summer smiles, but summer goes, And winter waits behind it. For with the dream foregone, foregone, The deed foreborn forever, The worm Regret will canker on, And time will turn him never. So were it well to love, my love, […]...
13. The Universal Language Of Love There is a universal language that is spoken by all – Both on earth and in the heavens above. It’s a beautiful language that flows from the heart And it’s universal name is love. The language of love uses thoughts and feelings To express what it wants to say, It’s the language that God uses […]...
14. Tis the Last Rose of Summer Tis the last rose of summer Left blooming alone; All her lovely companions Are faded and gone: No flower of her kindred, No rose-bud is nigh, To reflect back her blushes, Or give sigh for sigh. I’ll not leave thee, thou lone one! To pine on the stem; Since the lovely are sleeping, Go, sleep […]...
15. Sonnet 32 – The first time that the sun rose on thine oath The first time that the sun rose on thine oath To love me, I looked forward to the moon To slacken all those bonds which seemed too soon And quickly tied to make a lasting troth. Quick-loving hearts, I thought, may quickly loathe; And, looking on myself, I seemed not one For such man’s love!-more […]...
16. The Grave and The Rose The Grave said to the Rose, “What of the dews of dawn, Love’s flower, what end is theirs?” “And what of spirits flown, The souls whereon doth close The tomb’s mouth unawares?” The Rose said to the Grave. The Rose said, “In the shade From the dawn’s tears is made A perfume faint and strange, […]...
17. Rose-Morals I. Red. Would that my songs might be What roses make by day and night Distillments of my clod of misery Into delight. Soul, could’st thou bare thy breast As yon red rose, and dare the day, All clean, and large, and calm with velvet rest? Say yea say yea! Ah, dear my Rose, good-bye; […]...
18. Auschwitz Rose There is a Rose at Auschwitz, in the briar, A rose like Sharon’s, lovely as her name. The world forgot her, and is not the same. I love her and would not forget desire, But keep her memory exalted flame To justify the thistles and the nettles. On Auschwitz now the reddening sunset settles; They […]...
19. Rose Leaves When they shall close my careless eyes And look their last upon my face, I fear that some will say: “her lies A man of deep disgrace; His thoughts were bare, his words were brittle, He dreamed so much, he did so little. When they shall seal y coffin lid And this worn mask I […]...
20. The Year of the Rose From the depths of the green garden-closes Where the summer in darkness dozes Till autumn pluck from his hand An hour-glass that holds not a sand; From the maze that a flower-belt encloses To the stones and sea-grass on the strand How red was the reign of the roses Over the rose-crowned land! The year […]...
21. The Last Rose ‘O WHICH is the last rose?’ A blossom of no name. At midnight the snow came; At daybreak a vast rose, In darkness unfurl’d, O’er-petall’d the world. Its odourless pallor Blossom’d forlorn, Till radiant valour Establish’d the morn Till the night Was undone In her fight With the sun. The brave orb in state rose, […]...
22. Sonnets 06: No Rose That In A Garden Ever Grew No rose that in a garden ever grew, In Homer’s or in Omar’s or in mine, Though buried under centuries of fine Dead dust of roses, shut from sun and dew Forever, and forever lost from view, But must again in fragrance rich as wine The grey aisles of the air incarnadine When the old […]...
23. To The Rose Upon The Rood Of Time Red Rose, proud Rose, sad Rose of all my days! Come near me, while I sing the ancient ways: Cuchulain battling with the bitter tide; The Druid, grey, wood-nurtured, quiet-eyed, Who cast round Fergus dreams, and ruin untold; And thine own sadness, where of stars, grown old In dancing silver-sandalled on the sea, Sing in […]...
24. The Perfect Marriage I I hate this yoke; for the world’s sake here put it on: Knowing ’twill weigh as much on you till life is gone. Knowing you love your freedom dear, as I love mine- Knowing that love unchained has been our life’s great wine: Our one great wine (yet spent too soon, and serving none; […]...
25. The Lover Tells Of The Rose In His Heart All things uncomely and broken, all things worn out and old, The cry of a child by the roadway, the creak of a lumbering cart, The heavy steps of the ploughman, splashing the wintry mould, Are wronging your image that blossoms a rose in the deeps of my heart. The wrong of unshapely things is […]...
26. A Dead Rose O Rose! who dares to name thee? No longer roseate now, nor soft, nor sweet; But pale, and hard, and dry, as stubble-wheat, – Kept seven years in a drawer – thy titles shame thee. The breeze that used to blow thee Between the hedgerow thorns, and take away An odour up the lane to […]...
27. My Pretty Rose Tree A flower was offered to me; Such a flower as May never bore. But I said I’ve a Pretty Rose-tree. And I passed the sweet flower o’er. Then I went to my Pretty Rose-tree: To tend her by day and by night. But my Rose turnd away with jealousy: And her thorns were my only […]...
28. 195. Song-A Rose-bud by my Early Walk A ROSE-BUD by my early walk, Adown a corn-enclosed bawk, Sae gently bent its thorny stalk, All on a dewy morning. Ere twice the shades o’ dawn are fled, In a’ its crimson glory spread, And drooping rich the dewy head, It scents the early morning. Within the bush her covert nest A little linnet […]...
29. Nobody knows this little Rose Nobody knows this little Rose It might a pilgrim be Did I not take it from the ways And lift it up to thee. Only a Bee will miss it Only a Butterfly, Hastening from far journey On its breast to lie Only a Bird will wonder Only a Breeze will sigh Ah Little Rose […]...
30. The Rose did caper on her cheek The Rose did caper on her cheek Her Bodice rose and fell Her pretty speech like drunken men Did stagger pitiful Her fingers fumbled at her work Her needle would not go What ailed so smart a little Maid It puzzled me to know Till opposite I spied a cheek That bore another Rose Just […]...
31. Rose Aylmer Ah, what avails the sceptred race! Ah, what the form divine! What every virtue, every grace! Rose Aylmer, all were thine. Rose Aylmer, whom these wakeful eyes May weep, but never see, A night of memories and sighs I consecrate to thee....
32. The butterfly and the rose i walk the dream Where the street Breathes in the shadow Of moon-light, The lovers night. Oh, sweet love Long time coming Longer time whispering Us free. I sing your eyes As willows Stretching into The ever passing winds I speak the words of my heart I sing the songs of my dreams I see […]...
33. If I should cease to bring a Rose If I should cease to bring a Rose Upon a festal day, ‘Twill be because beyond the Rose I have been called away If I should cease to take the names My buds commemorate ‘Twill be because Death’s finger Claps my murmuring lip!...
34. Song of Perfect Propriety Oh, I should like to ride the seas, A roaring buccaneer; A cutlass banging at my knees, A dirk behind my ear. And when my captives’ chains would clank I’d howl with glee and drink, And then fling out the quivering plank And watch the beggars sink. I’d like to straddle gory decks, And dig […]...
35. The Rose Of Battle Rose of all Roses, Rose of all the World! The tall thought-woven sails, that flap unfurled Above the tide of hours, trouble the air, And God’s bell buoyed to be the water’s care; While hushed from fear, or loud with hope, a band With blown, spray-dabbled hair gather at hand, Turn if you may from […]...
36. The Secret Rose Far-off, most secret, and inviolate Rose, Enfold me in my hour of hours; where those Who sought thee in the Holy Sepulchre, Or in the wine-vat, dwell beyond the stir And tumult of defeated dreams; and deep Among pale eyelids, heavy with the sleep Men have named beauty. Thy great leaves enfold The ancient beards, […]...
37. On this long storm the Rainbow rose On this long storm the Rainbow rose On this late Morn the Sun The clouds like listless Elephants Horizons straggled down The Birds rose smiling, in their nests The gales indeed were done Alas, how heedless were the eyes On whom the summer shone! The quiet nonchalance of death No Daybreak can bestir The slow […]...
38. Laughing Rose If I were gusty April now, How I would blow at laughing Rose; I’d make her ribbons slip their knots, And all her hair come loose. If I were merry April now, How I would pelt her cheeks with showers; I’d make carnations, rich and warm, Of her vermillion flowers. Since she will laugh in […]...
39. The Sick Rose O Rose thou art sick. The invisible worm. That flies in the night In the howling storm: Has found out thy bed Of crimson joy: And his dark secret love Does thy life destroy....
40. The Rose Tree ‘O words are lightly spoken,’ Said Pearse to Connolly, ‘Maybe a breath of politic words Has withered our Rose Tree; Or maybe but a wind that blows Across the bitter sea.’ ‘It needs to be but watered,’ James Connolly replied, ‘To make the green come out again And spread on every side, And shake the […]...